


In fear

by CrazyChicken



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyChicken/pseuds/CrazyChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is scared of his own emotions and hides them under unbreakable covers. Putting a up a mask of aggression has always worked perfectly fine for him. But then there's Daniel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In fear

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M just to be sure. Also, unbeta'd.

Martin is merciless. He is selfish and stubborn. He is easy in life, but impossible to live with. He is not scared of making decisions and bares the consequences fearlessly. But that does not mean he is completely unafraid. No matter how hard the cover, you can always find the softer side if you dig deep enough.

It takes a lot to get through him, because even a great part of his feelings are dark, made up of fear and hatred towards that fear. He’s so afraid of giving into his fears that he never even tried to find the words to describe them to others, and it makes him feel desperately confused and messed up.

Living in denial of those things that scare him to death has always been a good solution. Throughout the years it gave him some solid ground to stand on, some rocks to hold on to. He liked to think that he built it all himself, liked to feel in control; like playing God.

Yet there are always moments when life gets in front of him and doesn’t give him what he wants, or even what he needs. On lonely summer nights when the whole world seems to be having a good time and he’s still hungover from last night and he eats a cold meal by himself in a strange motel in an even stranger city. The feelings, the past, the fears – everything comes back to him in flashbacks and echoes, washing over him. His pain and sadness turn into anger and fury and as a result, he messes up the room, breaking vases, throwing pillows against the wall until the fabric gets loose. When people ask about it, he tells them he had a wild party and puts up a fitting smirk. He’s living the good life in the eyes of the world. His strong mask is unbreakable.

He thought it worked perfectly fine this way. Mess up a room every now and then and be done with the emotions. But then there’s Daniel, who came into his life and made everything change.

 

They became friends like they were back in kindergarten. Martin was the silent kid when he came to Liverpool and it drew Dan’s attention immediately. In the spinning world that was Anfield all it took was a ‘you forgot your towel’ and a ‘thank you’ to become best friends, because they didn’t feel like they should know _everything_ about the other to become buddies. They saw each other on the pitch almost every day and that was enough. When they had to couple up for an assignment at practice, it was only natural for them to be a pair. After a while, they didn’t even need to ask or even look at the other for approval; they knew. Being in each other’s company became the most obvious thing to do. They started sharing hotel rooms and Martin wasn’t all that lonely anymore. Sometimes he would drown in Dan’s company and wake up in a room that wasn’t smashed to pieces. And he could smile, simply because Daniel was the perfect kind of distraction.

They started going out together and bringing each other back home when the other was too drunk to drive. They hung out at each other’s places and forgot their scarves after sleeping there, and then they didn’t forget them, but they left them at the other’s house on purpose. They would always come back there, after all.

They went from teammates to friends to best friends, then after a crazy night to friends with benefits, somehow to fuck buddies, but hell no, they never became lovers. Love involves emotions, feelings, endless talks. They just wanted each other physically.

Martin was dominant in bed, telling Dan exactly what to do, how to move, where to lie down or which words (or names) to moan, and then Daniel never did what he was told to. It made Martin angry and his sex even angrier and it was crazy how good that felt to both of them. Even his merciless thrusts brought a satisfied smile to Dan’s face.

Even though they knew each other’s bodies inside and out, knew every inch of ink and skin, knew exactly what kind of reaction a certain touch would draw from the other, there was no love lost between the two. They could wake up in the same bed and start the day with an enormous fight about nothing. Since Martin wasn’t that much of a talker, the fights became physical too, like their entire relationship was, and Daniel would be left bruised. Not because he didn’t have enough upper body strength to fight back; he simply let Martin.

Martin was hard, but was also broken, Dan knew. He was always too far gone. That was the problem: even when Martin was there, sober and well, he wasn’t really _there_ and there was no way to address him. It made him think that Martin wasn’t a human being, but rather a monster. He didn’t know where his thoughts were – if he were even thinking at all – he just knew that they weren’t where they were supposed to be.

Yet there was another kind of moment, in which Martin lost control over his emotions, and Daniel knew it. When Dan was being fucked roughly and he was in the lucky position where he was able to look in his eyes, he could see it. Just before he came, when he could feel the climax nearing, there was a moment in which all Martin’s hard covers and masks seemed to crumble in the magic of the moment. Daniel could see it in his usually so dark eyes – a fire. Maybe it was just a tiny spark, he didn’t know. But he could easily say that it was a feeling. A feeling that showed.

After a few months, Dan started longing for more intimacy, though he never dared talking to Martin about it. Instead, they only had more sex. That was when their nights weren’t about reaching that climax anymore for Daniel. His main goal became capturing that magical moment in which this monster became a living being.

Step by slow step he found out more about those precious looks. The feelings they carried weren’t hate or fear or anger or anything of the kind. They seemed to be filled with joy, for in one second everything else could be forgotten. He looked and he _saw_. In that short second Martin looked at his friend and saw him for who he was and even felt things about Dan. Only God knows what kind of feeling, but the fact that Martin wasn’t that cold after all, was enough for Dan.

Daniel tried to delay these moments, keep them alive as long as possible. He wanted to study every single part of Martin in these rare seconds. And one night, he managed to figure out what the look in his eyes meant. Passion. Lust. Affection. Desire. And yes, even love.

 

After that night, they didn’t start talking more or treating each other very differently, but both knew something had changed and it was both good and bad. The fact that they shared an emotional secret now meant the world for Dan, but he could feel the fear in the air. Martin seemed scared to break; such a strong man became so fragile in his arms.

On one night after they had played a game away, they found themselves naked in a hotel bed once again. Martin was already sprawled over Dan, when the latter asked: “What are you afraid of?” He knew what he was risking and honestly, he hadn’t really considered it, but the words had escaped his mouth before he could over think them.

Martin looked up in surprise and there was anger all over his face. For all the few words they spoke, they had never been this direct and honest, it even scared Daniel. Martin said nothing, stood up, walked to the bathroom and shut the door with a bang. Dan heard the sound of the lock and then the shower and he knew he had failed.

 

They didn’t say anything the next week. They nodded at each other at practice and screamed at each other across the field only when necessary, using their last names instead of their first. It was as if they had never been fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or best friends, or friends, or teammates at all.

After the match on Saturday, Dan drove Martin home in silence. When he stopped before Martin’s door, Daniel said: “I’m sorry.”

Martin shrugged and left, leaving Daniel with a thousand questions. He listened to the radio as he drove to his own house, but the music couldn’t truly fill his heart the way it used to. In bed he felt lonely, scared, broken, and he could imagine how Martin felt, had always felt, and Dan hated the thought of his friend being that miserable.

The next morning he woke up on a tear-damp pillow. He had breakfast and suddenly the usual silence seemed painful. He had been denying himself all feeling for the last months, but the truth was that he still had emotions. He was lost and he missed Martin. Not just the heat of his body or his amazing orgasms, but _him_ , everything about him. His vacant stares and the way he grinned, instead of smiling. The way he hummed instead of singing. The way he laughed instead of crying. He missed all the little things other people hated so much about Martin, and he hated that he was losing them. He was starting to give up on everything.

When time came to go to the training, he walked through the door into the hallway, where he found a piece of paper on the doormat. It was a note from Martin he saw immediately, with the one word he should have said. _Loss._

 

It made so much sense and yet it made Daniel cry, and he let it go. For once, he allowed himself to be truthful and listen to his emotions. It hurt him to know that Martin was unable to hold on to love because he was too afraid of losing it. So he cried for Martin, not for himself.

When he walked out the door eventually, his eyes still red, he could barely believe his eyes when he found Martin waiting by his car.

“Hey,” said Dan.

“Hi,” Martin replied sullenly, his eyes moving over Daniel’s face. They skipped the ‘how are you’ and other useless topics, but he Dan knew how Martin was.

“Do you know Shakespeare?” he asked instead, which is in fact a much better conversational starter, if you think about it.

Martin rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Do you know what he said?”

Martin shrugged, pretending not to care, but suddenly, Dan could see through it, through the layers of cool guy to the guy that was anxious to know what Shakespeare said.

“ ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.’ ”

Martin shrugged again, but he knew he had to give in when Dan only smiled. “I bet he was a wise man, then.”

Dan took Martin’s hand without asking for permission, although he knew he was crossing way too many lines. “He sure was.”

They walked around the block and talked about the simple things in life, using more words than they had ever said to each other and for the first time, Martin didn’t even want get into Dan’s pants immediately. He didn’t want to destroy hotel rooms and he didn’t want to let go of Dan’s hand. They went to Dan’s car and drove to practice while talking about emotions and for the first time, Martin wasn’t afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> The line 'flashbacks and echoes' belongs to Taylor Swift's Red, and I couldn't help but use it.


End file.
